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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874213">Not According To Plan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapsNSFW/pseuds/PapsNSFW'>PapsNSFW</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Belly Kink, Childbirth, Cowboys &amp; Cowgirls, Gods, Implied Sexual Content, Labor kink, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Birth, Nymphs &amp; Dryads, Pregnancy, Secret Relationship, Secret pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, graphic birth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 11:40:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapsNSFW/pseuds/PapsNSFW</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This has not been what Cat had planned for.<br/>In fact, it was so off the beaten path, that he felt like he had lost his way completely.<br/>This was supposed to be a relatively simple stop on their way past the Rockies.<br/>Unfortunately, the kid seems to have other plans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not According To Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Is this a self-indulgent mpreg fic? Yes.<br/>This has mpreg and birth stuff in it so if you're not interested, feel free to not read this!<br/>-----<br/>Cat Salisbury: Otherwise known as the young god Hodr, Cat is the leader of the Salisbury Boys Gang. </p>
<p>Marcus Rodriguez: A water nymph, Cat's right hand man. </p>
<p>Abigail: Cat's best friend since childhood.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This has </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> been what Cat had planned for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In fact, it was so off the beaten path, that he felt like he had lost his way completely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was supposed to be a relatively simple stop on their way past the Rockies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He and Marcus had come to the conclusion that it would be safer to sell off old stolen goods onto their normal fence back out in Idaho than to sell them to some newbie down in Kill-Creek who could rat them out to any authority within a 12-mile radius. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had caught the first inkling that something was off about a month before the pair were set to leave. Just a random bout of nausea and a fleeting worry about its importance. Gods don't really </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> nausea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of putting too much thought into the meaning, he continued feeling sick and packing, knowing nothing good could come from this. For the next month, he'd pull back for a moment during the early mornings and empty his stomach contents onto the forest floor like clockwork.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily it had gotten cold after the first 4 months. He had prayed that the weight that had leached its way into his abs, transforming them into a small dome that grew bigger with every week, would just...disappear? When it didn’t disappear, he had resorted to donning thicker and thicker sets of clothing to bulk out the rest of his frame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't been sure what he was going to tell Marcus the next time he wanted to do anything that would require stripping out of the huge winter overcoat he had purchased for the mission. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily the kid had settled back against his spine, meaning by month 6 he was barely starting to round out enough for Marcus to even notice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The water nymph wasn't a very talkative guy, so he mostly kept to himself unless they had their hands on each other, which Cat had tried his hardest to grind to a halt once the weight started packing on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was embarrassing, to say the least. Nymphs were notorious for breeding like rabbits with other nymphs or humans but, he had honestly expected gods to work differently. As if the ability to be either gender would somehow save him from his own bad choices.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Him...</span>
  <em>
    <span>pregnant</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was ridiculous. It was embarrassing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was...terrifying. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The water nymph seemed to have taken the weight gain in stride though, barely seeming to comment on it unless Cat brought it up first. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Cat, I don’t really get what’s been going on with you recently, but-" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had started after pulling the god’s arm, that he had been using to shield his face from the nymph, up and away. The god had never confirmed that the extra weight had been the cause of his embarrassment, but Marcus had interpreted it as such anyways. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I don’t really see a problem here-” Cat had tensed in fear as the nymph’s hand had been millimeters away from resting on the side of his belly. Instead, Marcus had brought it gently up to the god’s face, cupping his cheek gently. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Do you?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cat had had to fight tooth and nail not to sob then and there on the spot, his hormones trying to make a fool out of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They were nearly back at Kill-Creek when things went south. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'You're only 12 miles out, Cat- come on you can make it-' </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had struggled with soreness, and discomfort for months now, but today was taking the cake for downright painful muscle cramps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few nights within the last week or so he'd woken up in a panic to cramps tightening his stomach, only for them to calm down and go away on their own. Leaving him to pant for breath until Marcus stirred and pulled him back to bed.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grimaced, his non-dominant hand falling from the reigns of his horse to cup the underside of his belly. He had been crampy all day, but they had begun to be more localized and painful as the hours had waned on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel the dome tightening under his hand, pulling the shape down into an almost teardrop instead of the perfect sphere it had been before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid had settled deep into his pelvis about two days prior, making him stumble into Marcus while getting dressed that morning as his balance was suddenly thrown off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Come on not now- please, please, please not now-</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He shut his eyes for a moment and prayed to whatever fate gods he could think of to slow this thing down. And some of the maternity gods to maybe just erase this whole experience from existence. Surely it was just some cruel prank Hera was playing on him for ditching the last Gods and Mythical Creatures meeting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The final stretch of the trip back was the rocky path they had cut through to find a suitable spot for camp. While walking felt hilariously out of the question, riding on horseback still felt like it was counterintuitive to relieving the pain or discomfort that was beginning to pull his focus away from the task at hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a few minutes, they just rode in silence before he could feel that telltale twinge in his back start to pick up force. It felt like someone was pulling the muscles in his belly tight and wringing them down towards his knees. His coat fell somewhat loose on him when his belly quivered and pulled inward and downwards like it was doing at the moment. The force was enough to rip a stifled moan out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pocket watch sitting in his vest's pocket continued to weigh in his mind until finally, he pulled it out, rubbing a clammy thumb over the metal engravings anxiously. He should be timing them at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He managed to let out a quiet groan as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>contraction</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he should call it what it is, finally released its hold, his belly pushing back out to its original position. He could feel tiny feet kicking out in protest of what was happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He moved a hand, as casually as he could over the spot near the top of the dome, where those little kicks were located, and gave his belly a weary smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Believe me kiddo, I don't want to be doing this any more than you do right now." He muttered as quietly as he could. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He managed to relax a little for a moment, observing Marcus's trail-hunting abilities come into play as they weaved through the trees carefully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A particularly bumpy patch of trial seemed to trigger the muscles in his back to tense, steeling a real grunt from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cat?" Marcus asks, turning his head to look behind him at the god. He could feel a weight, most likely the kid's head, pressing deeper into his pelvis as the muscles in his belly clamped down. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“M’ fine, Marcus-” He grunts, bending over his middle slightly, the strain finally beginning to crack through his well-trained composure. He fails to bite back the ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ he mutters as the muscles string themselves tighter, making him feel like he’s going to pop then and there like a balloon. He can hear the sound of boots hitting the dirt, his heart rises into his throat.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Suddenly two ocean blue eyes are staring worriedly at him from the ground, a blue-skinned hand gently placing itself on his upper thigh. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until the contraction lets up and he’s gasping for air, tears burning their way past his eyelids. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cat, come on-” Marcus furrows his brows, the anxious look he’s giving him sending the god into a guilty spiral. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>told him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had planned out what was supposed to happen, he had worried about every horrible outcome that could possibly occur. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Not making it back to camp wasn’t exactly very high on his list of things to be anxious about. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>And suddenly it seems like this kid might be coming </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The weight delving deeper into his hips with every moment seems to spark the inklings of a fear he didn’t know he even had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Talk to me, what’s going on- Are you hurt?” Marcus asks his voice calm but still somehow doting above all else. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His right-hand man had </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> been the doting kind. He couldn’t take a bullet during a shootout without that damn nymph knowing and pulling him out of the fight. Cat, admittedly, knew he was reckless. He knew that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> had been a reckless mistake. That not telling Marcus about his </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid </span>
  </em>
  <span>was a mistake. He knew this. And still, even with the kid’s father standing next to him, he couldn’t bear the thought of admitting things had gone awry. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>A strange, bubble of discomfort was making itself known at the bottom of his stomach. He squeezes his thighs tighter, desperately wanting to just lay down somewhere and ignore this whole thing until it goes away. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not “going away” you idiot, you’re in labor.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus is suddenly wrapping his hands around his hips, pulling him so he begins to slide off of the saddle. Cat can barely think of anything else as the next contraction is starting to wrap its tendrils around his midsection. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He’d needed help getting down for the last stretch of the journey, so this movement is nearly instinctual at this point. But the landing sends a jolt through his spine, making the muscles spasm and clamp down harder. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He grits his teeth and tries his best not to scream into his lover’s ears. Reeling back as the gravity of standing seems to force this bubble of discomfort down deeper down towards his knees. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He curls in on himself the second he’s on his own two feet, tucking one arm under his belly to counteract the discomfort building there.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s only been a few minutes since the last one…</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ The panic ices his veins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re nearly on top of each other. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Christ this hurts-” He grunts out, a laugh cracking through the pain. It was hard to remain serious with how angeringly ironic it is that the kid was coming a day early, and 10 minutes out from camp. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can hear something scraping the dirt before he feels two warm hands hesitantly making contact with his shoulders. He cracks one eye open as the contraction releases him, to see Marcus on his knees, the worry seemingly molding itself into fear on his face. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can almost hear the thought process going on in the nymph’s mind.</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Did he get shot? But we haven’t been near anyone else for the last week- Did he eat something bad? But then we’d both be sick- Was I too rough the last time we-</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Marcus- god you are the loudest fucking thinker.” Cat mutters, his head throbbing at just the idea of how loud those thoughts must be. “Just give me a second.” He begs, his voice cracking as he tries to catch his breath.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus huffs at this remark, his brows furrowing as he examines Cat up and down.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’re riding with me the rest of the way. Come on.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat can’t even get a word in before Marcus is scooping him up in his arms. Heat burns its way into the back of his neck. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Marcus they’re gonna notice…” He trails off, motioning his hands in reference to the two of them, and then towards himself again. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“We can’t just ride in on the same horse and not get questions.” He says, rolling his eyes at the blank look of confusion his right-hand man is giving him. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’re hurt. Simple as that.” Marcus drawls out, his unshakeable demeanor still something to behold. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His face twists slightly as the bobbing movement of walking, coupled with the princess-style of carrying Marcus had chosen seems to shove the kid down farther into his hips. Without the horse to keep his legs apart, he finds himself instinctively squeezing them together. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>That bubble of discomfort is beginning to turn into a huge balloon at the bottom of his belly. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He’s sure it’s normally just referred to as ‘pressure’ but the idea that the urge to push could be around the corner makes his stomach churn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He digs his fingers into Marcus’s biceps, a low whine escaping his lips before he can stop it. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The arms around him grow tense as the sound hits the nymph’s ears, surely sending him into a panic. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Getting onto the horse is slow, and uncomfortable, the weight in his hips making it hard to move without waddling. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He had promised himself, as soon as the weight had begun to pack on quickly towards the end, that he would rather be killed on the spot than </span>
  <em>
    <span>waddle</span>
  </em>
  <span> anywhere. He wasn’t some weak pregnant housewife who needed bed rest for the last 3 months of gestation. And he certainly wasn’t gonna act like one now. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His stubbornness proved to be the one weakness that was biting him in the ass today. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>All he can think about is that he should have told Marcus already. The thought and the guilt bounce around his head as the next two contractions barely allow him to remain upright. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>As the second contraction lets up, he lets out a sigh and leans back against Marcus. A triumphant smile creases his face, having gotten through the cramp without making a sound. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat doesn’t realize he’s settled a hand onto the side of his belly until Marcus’s arm bumps into his. That embarrassed heat floods his face again as he feels those ocean blue eyes boring a hole into his back. The sweat that’s been pushing its way through his pores is now beginning to slick his scalp and the back of his neck, sending a chill through his chest as the cold air hits it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He has enough time to observe their surroundings and recognize the wooden posts hidden among the trees. He and Sal had placed them there 4 years ago to help the gang members find their way back through the thicker forested areas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sal.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jesus he hadn’t told anyone. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He and his twin had been in near-constant contact while he was out. They had sent letters back and forth for 8 months, and not once did he mention the kid he was going to stumble in carrying. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His thoughts were cut off by a contraction barreling into him. He inhales sharply, alerting Marcus to his pain unwillingly. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What’s going on Cat?” He says, keeping his voice low enough to not alert the camp’s guards to their presence just yet. Cat can’t even get a breath in, let alone get the words to come out properly. He tenses as the contraction picks up in intensity, gripping Marcus’s forearms, and pushes himself feebly upwards, trying to escape the pain deep in his hips, letting out a quiet shaky ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah- ah-ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>!’ and a set of gasps.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The nymph drops the reins for a moment and just lets his arms be used. Cat tilts his head down, squeezing his eyes shut as the contraction’s intensity ratchets itself up to a new height of pain. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He lets out a choked off whine as the muscles relax but the discomfort remains. </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, he collapses into Marcus’s chest, gasping for air for a moment before managing to blurt out a feeble, “Marcus please-” He coughs, the air cold air drying the back of his throat. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His skin is flushed pink against the blue of the nymph’s as he releases his hold on Marcus. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He has to scrunch his face to keep the hot tears from trying to work their way out and onto his cold-bitten cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I really don’t want to ruin this saddle.” It comes out sounding a little more emotional than he wanted, the pain and fear forcing a higher pitch from him than normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus’s brow furrows at this, his confusion still palpable in the air as he brings a cautious hand up behind Cat’s right elbow and slides it until it's against the warmed skin of Cat’s belly. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before Marcus can feel the muscles under his lover’s skin hardening as they push the pair’s child ever deeper into the bowl of Cat’s pelvis. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can feel his heartbeat in his throat as Marcus stays silent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Marcus was the only one out of the gang to have ever actually delivered a baby- meaning that the nymph </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> what a contraction looked like.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He grips the nymph’s free hand and squeezes it tight, letting out a quiet grunt as the contraction cracks his composure down another notch towards being a complete mess. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus lifts his hand away from the tightened skin for a moment to allow his leader to scoop his hand onto the underside of his belly and push it upwards, trying to counteract that discomfort fruitlessly. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat’s gritting his teeth, exhaling short breaths through his nose as he tries to remain calm. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>That uncomfortable bubble at the bottom of his belly has now overtaken everything. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The muscles string tighter, and for a second he’s sure he’s about to explode. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>And just like that it ends, leaving him breathless and shaky. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Dammit Cat.” Marcus grumbles, cupping a large hand on the side of the god’s stomach as he picks up reigns and throws them, kickstarting the horse into a gallop. He was never really one for words or kindness, so Cat’s pleasantly surprised that he didn't get a belligerent smack to the back of the head alongside the nymph's realization.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>As they reach the outskirts of the camp, Marcus halts and shucks off his large jacket. He wraps the warm cloth around Cat’s shoulders, helping the shaking leader pull the sleeves over his sweaty arms. “You already look sick, we’re gonna stick to that story alright.” Marcus leans down, whispering it into Cat’s ear as he sets the horse back into a normal walk. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Just don’t say anything. I’ll do the talking.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can barely make out who’s guarding the camp for the day. There’s sweat in his eyes, and a contraction on its way. The trembling in his chest would make for a good act of running a fever, if he wasn’t slightly worried he actually was running one. Marcus has a protective arm wrapped around his shoulders, allowing him to rest his head against the nymph’s collarbone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, y’all! Welcome back!” Sal’s chirpy voice sends a painful spark in his chest. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re lying to them</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He shakes that thought off, the muscles in his back beginning to pull tight with the next contraction. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hey, Sal!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>At this point, he wasn’t sure if he could stand even if he wanted to. He was worried the kid would just fall out if he leaned too far back. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>There’s some instinct nagging at him to get up and roam around. Keep things moving. When the pain escalates, that instinct turns into the demand to squat. He bites back a whine, shifting restlessly against this unbearable feeling. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He grips the hand around his shoulders and squeezes, hoping to convey his urgency silently. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus rubs the pad of his thumb up and down on his shoulder. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>A silent ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hold on, almost there.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ that keeps his leader’s composure together. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cat doesn’t look too hot-” Sal says, his eyebrows creasing two lines perpendicularly into his forehead. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The redhead begins to take a step forward before Marcus holds a hand up. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I don’t know what he’s got yet, Sal. It’s best to steer clear of us for the next few days until we figure out if it's contagious.” As per usual, Marcus astounds Cat with his ability to think on his feet. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Sal nods and lets them through, stepping to the side to let the horse pass. Marcus pulls up as close as he can get to the porch of the cabin before stopping the steed, dropping the reins and patting its neck. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He swings a strong leg off and hops down, moving around to help Cat get down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I don’t know if I can walk-” Cat mutters, one shaky arm hugging his bump under the heavy overcoat. He’s most definitely sweat through the first jacket, some part of him staying tense with the idea of dirtying Marcus’s jacket as well. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Come on, just a few feet,” Marcus says, the calm in his voice giving Cat some well-deserved comfort. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>They have to stop once in the hallway, Marcus rubbing circles into his back as he fights through the urge to squat where he is. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He doesn’t vocalize this need to Marcus. Something tells him this instinct is already leading into an outcome he’d rather not think about until he’s in the thick of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Finally, the pair makes it into Cat’s quarters. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The god is frantically shedding the multiple layers of clothing like they are on fire. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus casts a worried look at the urgency in the other’s eyes, moving to assist with the buttons to the sweat-soaked overcoat when Cat’s hands fail him. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His black hair is now sticking to his scalp in the back, his fringe pushed back and away from his face anxiously hours before. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He throws the green vest and the scarf off without a second thought but hesitates when his hands brush the last of the fabric touching his skin.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Before he can decide what he wants to do, another contraction catches him off guard. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He folds over, his knees giving out. Thank the gods for Marcus. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Two strong hands hook under his arms and lift him so he can stand upright. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Easy- easy.” Marcus stutters, the panic of having to catch his partner seemingly causing a tremor in his composure. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat watches in terror as his stomach changes shape, the contraction making it first quiver, and then pull inward. He lets a hand hover near the bottom of the dome as the pair stare dumbfoundedly in silence at the solid shape of the baby is visible against the painfully tight muscles. “Christ, Cat how long have you-” Marcus falters, his brain finally catching up to the circumstances. “You’re pregnant.” He states, throwing his hands up in a well-blended mixture of terror and anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>pregnant</span>
  </em>
  <span> pregnant. Like having this baby right </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> pregnant." </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The god slaps a heavy hand onto the nymph’s shoulder, using it as a grounding object as the contraction makes the blood rush past his ears. He lets out a whine that quickly turns into a groan as the pressure feels like it's coming to an absolute head. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus moves a pair of sheepish hands towards his partner’s burgeoning bump before he halts, his normally steeled nerves getting the better of him. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat watches this through the pain, his breath hitching for a moment as he grabs Marcus’s hands and moves them to the sides of his belly, placing them just above his hips to counteract the pressure pushing down on them. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Finally, the muscles release and he lets Marcus take the brunt of his weight for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It’s-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cat looks up as the nymph begins to speak but turns away from the god as a bluish form of blush begins to darken his cheeks. He seems to be staring out of the window as he talks, his brows furrowed with determination.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “It’s- uh. It’s mine right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat lets out a huffy laugh, the relief easing the tenseness he was feeling. Marcus turns in an almost shock at the laugh he’s heard, a look of premature betrayal lacing his handsome features. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat goes to open his mouth, but his voice is somewhat croaky with exhaustion. “Of course-” He says somewhat hastily, trying to spare the nymph’s feelings and save his own hide. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus hums happily at this answer, pushing his hand into Cat’s side to get him to sway from side to side with him. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat resists this, making some indignant sound before shaking his head. Any movement forces the kid down. If he just stays still then nothing happens and he can continue to ignore this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No- that'll get things moving and I-” Cat exhales, ignoring the worried look Marcus is giving him. He rolls his shoulders for a moment, closing his eyes as the discomfort bubble at the bottom of his belly feels like it's growing with every movement. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He opens his eyes and tilts his head upwards, trying to blink back the hot tears trying to escape as his chest trembles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He doesn’t want this to happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some part of him is terrified of the pain that's beginning to rear its ugly head, but another part of him- the one he tries desperately to silence, doesn’t want this to be over. He can’t protect this kid once it's not kick-boxing his kidneys. What is the rest of the gang gonna say when they come back to a newborn. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He’s not exactly dad material. He’s not sure if anyone is- besides maybe...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Marcus</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He knows that man would be incredible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His chest sends a tremor through his core. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I don’t think I’m-” He bites out, having to cut it short to avoid sobbing into the nymph’s shoulder. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It’s far too late for that, unfortunately. “I can’t- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t want to</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Before he can stop it, a bout of hot tears spill onto his cheeks. He clenches his jaw, trying to fight against the urge to just let it out. Marcus melts immediately, his right hand coming up to gently wipe the tears away. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hey, hey, hey-” the nymph says, dragging his thumb over Cat’s cheek. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It’s gonna be fine. You can do this.” He says, pulling the god into his chest. Marcus sounds as though he’s maybe trying to convince himself as well, but Cat ignores it.  </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>That bubble of discomfort seems to overtake the rest of his thoughts for a moment. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He grimaces as a new sensation starts to build under the guise of a contraction, he presses both of his hands into the sides of his bump and lets his head fall with a ‘thunk’ onto Marcus’s chest. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep the scream in his throat at bay. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Something’s happening-” He blurts out in a panic letting the air in for a moment as the pressurized sensation comes to an absolute head in his hips. He digs the heels of his hands deeper into his sides and lets out a louder-than-intended groan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Almost by accident, he bends over slightly, trying to relive some of the strain. But with the added pressure from the top of his belly coupled with the sides and bottom pushing inward, that strange sensation doubles in intensity. Marcus places one hand momentarily onto the taught surface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out a whine as the feeling seems to swell, blooming across the bottom and top of the bump until it feels like he's going to implode.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It raises into a surprised gasp as that pressure suddenly gives way, something soaking the inseam of his slacks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit shit shit shit!</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus freezes where he is, staring into the distance straight ahead as the sound of liquid hitting the floor encapsulates the room. His hands, which are back on Cat’s tense waist, clamp up for a moment, tugging the thin egg-shell fabric into the gaps between his fingers. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Y-your water?” He stammers, before slowly letting his eyes fall to the floor, where the late evening light casts the amniotic fluid with a moon-speckled shine. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat closes his eyes and nods into the other’s chest, embarrassment burning the tips of his ears. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Sorry.” He says, sniffling into the fabric as the tears seem to finally slow. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can hear the rumbling laugh from Marcus’s chest as the nymph sets his chin on the other’s head and rocks the two of them from side to side. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hey, at least you didn’t ruin my saddle.” Cat laughs tearily at this and tucks his face into the warm fabric of Marcus’s shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>They get a moment of reprieve from contractions as his body seems to be preparing itself for what’s to come. Marcus slows the rocking momentarily and pulls away from this haphazard embrace to look his leader in the eye. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The pain in the nymph’s face sends a huge wave of guilt through his head and down his throat. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me?” It's that godforsaken look Marcus makes that he knows Cat’s weak for. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The stupid puppy dog eyes that got him into this mess in the first place. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I-” He huffs, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “I was scared, I think.” Marcus’s hurt face seems to only worsen with this answer, leaving the god to scramble to come up with a better explanation. “I didn’t want you to be angry, or worried- And it’s my fault anyway so I-” He’s stuttering out the sentence fast as a contraction finds him at the worst possible time, his face twisting as his breathing starts to hitch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I hoped maybe I would have a little while longer-” He grips Marcus’s shirt in his hands, letting out a heavy breath as his whole torso pulls in and pushes downward. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His voice starts to wear thin as the air he’s intaking is at a minimum. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And that I would have left for the day tomorrow and camped out somewhere and just had this damn baby when it was supposed to be due!” He shouts as the contraction hits its peak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Fuck it. He doesn’t care about his reputation anymore this kid is gonna kill him before he can even repair anything. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus doesn’t seem to mind either. His hands settle back onto Cat’s hips as the laboring god seems to fight just to stay in the present and not drift off into some cozy thought and ride this out alone. He can see the outline of the kid, settled so far down that the curve of his bump is now much more of a teardrop than it is a dome. The muscles force his whole belly to shudder, the ones on the sides contorting the entire shape into a squashed circle.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You would have really done that? Just not told me and had our kid in some random neck of the woods?” Cat’s stomach drops at the thought of doing that now. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I don’t think I had planned this far ahead to be completely honest with you.” He laughs, the muscles in his belly twitch with anticipation during his short reprieve. Marcus laughs too, it's a much more put together sound that what had just come from Cat, but the god was electing to ignore that embarrassing fact. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It’s not like he’s lying, he hadn’t imagined how horrible this whole experience was going to be when he was panickedly planning the birth back in month five. He had expected that the kid would be late, he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>banked</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the kid being late so he would have time to unpack his stuff and let his horse catch a break for a day or two. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But of course, nothing ever worked the way he had wanted it to. The first contractions had been light enough that he had assumed they were just practice ones and had allowed them to set out on the final leg of the journey. Cat knew he was taking the short end of the stick by not asking to stay out one more day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>'</span>
  <em>
    <span>I guess this is a better outcome than it could have been</span>
  </em>
  <span>.' </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He makes the inference that having to hide his labor at a makeshift camp with one tent to share would have maybe been less than ideal. But he could have waited until nightfall, and maybe managed to sneak out and push this kid out somewhere secluded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. He's not sure he would have been able to do this without Marcus there, as sappy as that sounds. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Things are moving pretty fast, Cat,” Marcus murmurs, letting the quiet air settle between them for a moment before crushing it with that statement. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The anxiety brewing in the god’s chest, just behind his ribs, seems to boil over. He knows what's coming next, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>estimate</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span> “It’s been nearly an hour since we got back-” Marcus pauses, the gears in his head grinding together as he maps out what Cat’s praying he doesn’t. He doesn’t want the attention, or the scolding, or the inevitable knowledge of the hours he wasn’t willing to calculate for himself. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“How long before that were you having contractions.” </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there it is. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He swallows the dread that's souring his tongue and tries to wrack his mind for when he had first felt the beginning contractions. </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I uh, hm.” He falters a strange sensation in his pelvis drawing his attention for a moment. It leaves as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him to try and find the best answer. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He knew lying wouldn’t work. It never did with Marcus.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I kind of remember not feeling great yesterday morning.” He scratches at the dried sweat on the back of his neck, his eyes fleeing from Marcus’s disappointed gaze. “But they only started coming regularly last night.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The nymph scoffs and rubs and hand over his face, trying to smooth the prickling frustrations he’s failing to hide. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Another one-” Cat manages to spit out before curling in on himself with a forced grunt. That heavy sensation at the bottom of his belly seems to reappear, although faintly, as the contraction pushes that weight deeper once more. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He lets out a low moan and begins to lower himself down, Marcus following the silent instructions to help counterbalance the weight sitting between Cat’s knees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It feels like the kid might just fall out at any moment. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He instinctively clamps his legs shut (as far as his belly will allow) at this idea and shudders as more fluid dribbles onto the floor underneath him. He puts one hand on the tensing ball hanging from his lap and frowns, blowing out an unsteady breath. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marcus’s left eyebrow twitches, the worry trying to latch itself into every crevice of that beautiful man’s face. He steadies the god and then watches in quiet anxiety as the contraction picks up in strength and length. As soon as it’s done, Cat slumps ungracefully onto the ground, kneading the sore muscles with the heels of his palms and continuing to frown in confusion. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Marcus asks, tentatively. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat shakes his head as his eyebrows carve an even deeper line into his face. “Nothing, I just can’t figure out what I want to do.” He says with a scoff. Marcus’s haunches seem to rise at the implications of what the god could mean until Cat realizes what his lover could have interpreted that as.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No no! I mean, I’ve only seen people do the...dramatic parts” He continues to rub at the underside of his belly as that fleeting feeling makes itself known again. “But I feel like my body’s just been telling me to...” He tilts his head and searches the distance for what his instincts were telling him to do. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He rolls his neck and shrugs, “move around, work the kid downwards.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus blows out a breath and laughs, running a hand down the waterfall one would label as his hair. “Jesus, Cat I thought you were gonna say </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘push’</span>
  </em>
  <span> or something.” The relief is short-lived as Cat squirms through another contraction on the ground. The outline of his belly sinking deeper towards his knees as the spasm wore on. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus stood up first, offering a hand to Cat, who seemed to ignore it. “I can’t get this- ugh- damn belt off!” It's almost a yell of frustration as he struggles to see well enough past his belly to grasp the buckle. His pants are just getting too tight, making him feel like he’s losing the circulation in his legs. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Easy- lemme get it.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It's not the first time Marcus has stripped him down, but this is definitely the first time that the reward wasn’t going to be a few hickeys on his shoulders the next day. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Together they managed to get the belt, and the pair of soiled slacks off of him, leaving him in only his boxers and undershirt, along with a pair of thick socks.. His face burned for a reason he couldn’t quite place. Something about the idea of how intimate this was already becoming was somewhat overwhelming. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Heaving Cat to his feet wasn’t the dramatic ordeal the god had thought it would be, instead, Marcus seemed to struggle very little with the task. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>They spent the next three contractions just pacing back and forth, and stopping when they get too overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Cat’s resistance broke down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Can you get Abigail?” He said, exhaling the sentence with the last of the most recent contraction. He watched as a fleeting look of jealousy passed through Marcus’s face before it quickly soured into worry. He places a hand on the bottom of his belly and winces, that strange feeling- like his hips themselves are suddenly heavy- pulling his focus away once again. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cat?” Marcus is stepping back for a moment to examine the god, stress coming off of him in waves. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Just-” He waves his free and dismissively and shakes his head as he tries to resist this weird temptation that's moving around his brain. He can’t quite figure out what it wants from him but it’s starting to grow more urgent as the minutes race by. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Please- just go grab her. We’re gonna need the extra hands soon anyways so-” He says, trying to remain as casual as possible about the terrifying fact that this kid’s arrival is well underway. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus doesn’t miss a beat, his eyes widening and flicking down to the bump and then back up to meet Cat’s withering gaze. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The god can feel the heat pooling into his face, as Marcus stutters a ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah- yeah for sure hold on.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ before walking stiffly out the door. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Just his luck that in the two minutes that Marcus is gone, a contraction starts just as he thinks he may be able to get away with this request without any punishments. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He grips the oak wood dresser with a little too much force, groaning as the wood cracks and splinters beneath his freckled hands. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can hear the door swinging open, but doesn’t bother looking up, his focus pulled to the intense need he still can’t quite name yet as the weight moves further down. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>There’s a hand on his upper arm and the soft voice of a very shocked Abigail. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“He-hey Abs.” He mutters, before he can say anything else his stomach tenses even further inward and he grunts in surprise. This muscle movement is much more of a downward pull than before, making him suddenly aware of how uncomfortable his hips are. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh, Cat.” She says, putting a dainty hand on the underside of his belly without an ounce of hesitation. Marcus stands by the door, his hand resting tentatively on the handle. “I knew it. Oh, I’m sorry Cat, I should have stopped you before you left-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat recovers enough to manage to reciprocate the hug Abigail is pulling him into, his eyes meeting Marcus’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He furrows his brows and glances at the hand on the handle with a questioning look.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I uh, I can go- If you want.” Marcus says, the awkwardness of his questionable position making him seem much smaller than he actually is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Abigail looks much more betrayed than Cat does, who’s wincing and leaning heavily into the wooden chest again. He can barely make out what the two of them are now whisper-arguing about. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can feel another contraction beginning, his back muscles stringing themselves tight first as an almost warning sign. He lets out a long breath and shuts his eyes, trying to find a motion that’ll satiate this strange heaviness he can’t get a grip on. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cat- hey, hey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cat.” Abigail says. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He gasps, the tightness in his hips and belly trying their hardest to push him back under. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“That’s two in the last 5 minutes, Abs.” Marcus says, his eyebrows lacing together. Abigail turns a nervous face to him and seems to understand what most likely is gonna have to happen. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She motions with one nonchalant hand to lay a towel down on the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Come on Cat, let’s get comfortable.” She says, helping him slowly walk towards the blue fabric Marcus is laying gently onto the ground. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat tries to resist for a moment, before seeming to get distracted. He frowns, holding the underside of his belly with one hand, and rubbing circles with the other. He barely realizes he’s swaying back and forth until Marcus comes around him from the left and touches the back of his arm, pulling him out of this strange state for a moment. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You okay?” The nymph asks, his gaze casting a chill down the god’s spine. </span>
</p>
<p><span><br/>
</span><span>Cat hums quietly, shifting back and forth for a moment before grimacing. “I-” He pauses. </span><span><br/>
</span><span>That feeling has gone quiet for a moment, but it’s still there in the back of his head, grating on his every thought. </span><span><br/>
</span><span>“I don’t know. I feel-” He lets out a breath and presses a palm into the underside of his belly again, trying to feel for the head, or whatever was sitting so heavily in between his legs. </span><span><br/>
</span><span>Abigail touches his arms, slowly bringing him down onto his hands and knees on the towel as he tries to think of the answer. </span><span><br/>
</span> <span><br/>
</span><span>Once he’s settled into that position, he sits back for a moment and his heart drops. </span></p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Something shifts, moving down and back slightly before almost pulling forward towards the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flinches and forgets his actions are being monitored, his eyes widening. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>A contraction of a new breed hits him suddenly. He shifts back onto his hands and lets out a groan. The muscles in his belly tightening in a way that forces him to tense back to feel some semblance of comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus drops to a knee in front of him and places a hand on his belly. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cat are you pushing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat closes his eyes and wraps his hand around the nymphs. He grits his teeth as the weight in his hips shifts closer to the floor. Instinctively he clamps his legs together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Abigail seems to catch this, using her hands to force them even wider than before, pulling a low whine from the god. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He shakes his head as the contraction eases for a moment. “I don’t want to do this.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It's a sob before he realizes it is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel the next one starting to build. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I know, love but I don’t think there’s any stopping it now.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He gasps as the contraction starts to pull everything low again, his belly quivering and shifting with the baby. He can feel angry kicks towards the middle of his stomach near his navel.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>That urge to push is rearing its ugly head again and Cat does everything in his power to avoid it. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He focuses on his breathing, he rocks back and forth, he tries to slowly trick Abigail missing the fact that he’s trying to shut his legs together. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Marcus’s voice somewhere in front of him. There is a hand on the one he has on the ground propping himself up. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’re gonna have to push at some point.” He says it like it's a fact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Panic strikes his brain like a match on its box. He shakes his head as it hangs between his shoulders. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I know you don’t want this to be happening but-” He feels Abigail settling a hand onto the small of his back. “You’re body’s gonna push this kid out whether you want it to or not.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His breathing is haggard by the time the next one catches him off guard. The quiet whine that comes out of his mouth slowly turns into a muted yell as his body pushes without his permission. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He’s worried if he moves too fast that his hips are gonna split apart. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>From where his head is hanging between his shoulders he watches as his belly tenses from his ribs down to his thighs. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Without meaning to, he finds himself pushing along with it. He lets out a gasp, trying to resist the urge but failing miserably. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Abigail is whispering encouraging sounding words towards him as he shifts back and cants his hips towards the ground. The curve of his belly sinks deeper into his hips as the weight that's been between his hips is suddenly moving past them. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He’s aware of a slight burning sensation beginning to develop between his thighs that he can’t be bothered to care about. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’re doing amazing, Cat.” Abigail has a huge smile on her face. He groans at this, the embarrassment of all the attention he’s receiving making this so much worse. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I wanna lay back-” He says, letting the other two scramble to help him. Marcus moves to sit behind him before Cat groans a ‘No-’ and points to the space by his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Abigail seems to understand before the nymph does, murmuring a </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘He wants you to catch it, Marcus.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If this wasn’t some of the worst pain Cat has ever been in, he would have relished in the bewildered look Marcus is sporting as he moves to Cat’s front, placing two clammy hands on the god’s knees. He’s trembling all over at this point but has enough time to grip the waistband to his boxers and start shakily removing them. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The other two help him carefully lift his hips up and out of the soiled fabric that Marcus casts unceremoniously to the side. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The burning in between his thighs hasn’t seemed to let up. “Okay, ya know- </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh</span>
  </em>
  <span>- on second thought let's just put a pin in this and circle back in like- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>- I don’t know… 6 years?” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He says, his voice rising to an octave he’s never hit before as his brain desperately attempts to lighten the serious mood hanging over his head. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus lets out a huffy laugh at this and smiles. “This isn’t exactly a plan we can postpone, Cat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Abigail snorts at this and kisses the side of Cat’s sweaty head. He lets out a grunt and puts a hand on the side of his belly as it begins to sink into his torso again. “Burning-” He says, the panic in his voice more obvious than he had intended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m sure it does.” Abigail says, pushing the sweat-soaked fringe from his face before shifting Cat and herself further forward. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The god tries to shut his legs again, but Marcus moves faster, pushing them even farther down towards the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The contraction ends and they all just sit there in silence for a moment. The belly seems to pick up the stress because it clamps down again much earlier than it should have and he leans forward with a yell. Abigail claps a hand over his mouth until he stops, muffling the sound as to not alert the rest of the gang. Marcus turns his head to the door and waits in terrified silence for the sound of footsteps or a knock on the wood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat couldn’t give less of a shit as the weight seems to feel like it's <em>right there</em>. He puts a hand on the top of his belly and presses down, letting out a moan as that burning seems to just grow more and more aggressive. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The contraction ends but he keeps pushing, blowing out a breath as soon as his body demands a break. His knees are shaking, and Abigail rubs a comforting pattering into his lower back as he sits slumped forward with his hands on Marcus’s shoulders. </span>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <span>The quiet grunts he’s making as the contractions wear on are quickly becoming sobs as the burning and the pain start to overcome him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> He can’t seem to get on top of these contractions, and he doesn’t feel like he’s making that much progress until suddenly the heaviest part of the weight shifts down with a painful stretch that has his gasping and lifting his hips up in a panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Easy Cat- that’s the head.” Marcus says, pushing the god by the hip back onto the floor. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Abigail hugs his back to her chest, her breath catching with excitement, a little ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ blending nicely into the silence. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Just breathe for a second.” The nymph says, leaning down for a moment. Cat flinches at the feeling of two cold fingers pulling something free and shifting it to the side. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Okay, whenever you’re ready.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>For another moment they just wait, Cat’s trembling seeming to pick up for a moment before he’s leaning back into Abigail with an agonized groan through his teeth. “It burns!” He gasps, his hand falling to settle against the inside of his left thigh. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He can feel something stretching and moving forward slowly before suddenly popping out, leaving him to writhe in shock for a moment as the contraction ends. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His constant strings of moans and grunts don’t seem to bother either of his two helpers. In fact, Marcus is grinning from ear to ear as he casts that blindingly bright face to Cat, “Last one, come on-” He urges, Abigail, helping Cat to shift up slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The contraction builds as he presses his torso into his knees, forcing that stretching to its absolute limit. He bites the inside of his cheek until a coppery taste begins to fill his mouth. He can barely take a breath in without it getting swept under by the strength of the contraction. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>And suddenly that unbearable burning disappears, along with the contraction. He shivers, his face twisting at the weird feeling of suddenly having no weight in his torso. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marcus laughs, his hands filled with a squirming blue-skinned nymph. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat sighs and slumps back into Abigail’s arms, his body already beginning to feel achy and sore. A cry startles him before he feels a squirmy weight being set on his chest. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Shh shh- hey kid I worked pretty hard to keep the crying to a minimum.” He mutters, a laugh somehow breaking through the exhaustion. Marcus is swiping the back of his hand against his eyes, trying his hardest to conceal the sniffling behind a laugh. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh that's definitely Cat’s child- Look at that hair!” Abigail says, grinning as she swirls a gentle finger into the black mane the baby’s sporting. Cat huffs, a tired smile cracking his normally serious face. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I have no idea how we are gonna explain this to the gang.” He says as the baby settles into his chest, the idea of even speaking to anyone outside of this room making his head throb. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Are we keeping him?” Marcus asks quietly, the trepidation in his voice hints to Cat that there’s really only one correct answer. He opens his mouth but stops, processing the last word again. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It's a boy?” He says, nudging the baby slightly to check Marcus’s accuracy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He laughs again, this time a little louder than he had meant to. “Holy crap kid, I can tell you’re gonna be trouble.” Marcus seems to relax a little, scoffing at Cat before crossing his arms. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah well like father like son, Cat.” His brow furrows even deeper towards his eyes as he turns to make eye contact with Abigail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You know he didn’t tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Abigail lets out a noise of shock and smacks the back of his head. He flinches and meets a glare far angrier than his own. He sinks sheepishly away from her. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Are you serious, Cat? What were you planning on doing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Racing off some time tomorrow and camping out somewhere until he had him.” Marcus states, rolling his eyes before casting another glare at the god. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat groans and leans more heavily into Abigail, heat bubbling into his face. “Listen- I was scared, I didn’t even have a concrete date on when the kid was actually supposed to get here.” He shifts up slightly, uncomfortable under the stares of his partners. “I thought I had at least another couple of days to figure it out. I wasn’t expecting to pop the second we got back to camp.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus scoffs and settles back until he’s sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. “Yeah well if you’d told me you were pregnant we would have stayed here and just risked a snitchy fence.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cat blinks, struggling to keep his eyes open as sleep tries to wrestle him into its embrace. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Can I like, take a bath or something this is…” He laughs, gesturing down to himself with his free hand. “This is gross.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus and Abigail laugh and shift to help him up. He slings an arm over Marcus’s shoulder, and they make their way to the bathroom.<br/>
</span>
  <span>“You didn’t answer my question, Cat.” He says, quietly, the seriousness bleeding into the bliss of holding the wiggling newborn for the first time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Of course we’re keeping him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> It comes out soft, but still firm enough for Marcus to understand. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The newborn stretches sleepily in his arms. “I don’t ever think I can let him go now.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Me neither,” Marcus says, squeezing Cat’s shoulder, a small smile cast across his handsome face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cat laughs again, ignoring Marcus's </span>
  <em>
    <span>'What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?' To turn and smile at him. "How in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> are we gonna explain this little guy without everyone figuring it out?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll just say it's mine." Marcus shrugs, turning the handle of the bathroom door and looking to Cat expectantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And what? Take credit for all my hard work?" Cat snorts, lifting the squirmy baby in his arm up in example. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marcus laughs again, but it's much more of a belly laugh than Cat's expecting. It makes something drop in his chest just hearing the sound.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No- I'd say the mom didn't make it, or that she didn't want him." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cat shakes his head playfully and smirks. "Is there any reason I couldn't just say it's my kid?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marcus lets out a hum and glances down at the baby, moving a gentle hand to tuck the black hair away from his face, revealing a pointy-tipped ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Know any other water nymphs around here who's timing would line up with ours?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cat sighs and shakes his head, a smile trying to crack its way onto his somewhat disappointed face. <br/>
</span>
  <span>Marcus leaves the pair for a moment to turn on the boiler, and then the faucet after a few moments. </span>
</p>
<p><span>It gives Cat a moment to actually examine the little stowaway he carried for nine months. Two chubby hands are tucked into his tiny chest.<br/>
</span>Ten fingers, ten toes. Everything seemed accounted for.<br/>
<span>He lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He had slowly developed the fear that all the horse riding and gunfights they had gotten into would have messed his son up somehow. </span></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His son.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks. The kid's hair is nearly identical to his. He's sure it'll most likely stay that way. It's hard to tell since it's only been a few minutes since the kid was born, but it seems like it has his nose as well. He raises an eyebrow at that. The Salisbury nose was the more commonly dominant trait. Sometimes it was the only thing that people connected between him and Sal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sal.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You think they'll believe us?" He asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marcus halts in his testing of the temperature. He's positioned himself against the side of the tub, one dirited sleeve rolled up so he can check if the water's too hot. <br/>
</span>
  <span>The nymph smiles, tilting his head as he tries to think of the answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mhm."  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stands and moves to gently place a hand on Cat's hip. Suddenly his right-hand man is pressing his lips against the gods, pulling a surprised muffled sound from him. <br/>
</span>
  <span>He melts into it without a second thought, smiling when Marcus eventually pulls away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Does it matter?" </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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